


If you give a little, get a little, maybe we could get to know each other

by queenofchildren



Category: Still Star-Crossed (TV)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 18:51:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17772314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofchildren/pseuds/queenofchildren
Summary: Their first meeting starts out low and gets a lot better. Their second one goes exactly the other way around. And their third one is just all over the place.And yet... there might be something there.





	If you give a little, get a little, maybe we could get to know each other

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I felt like writing a little ficlet for @unwrittenmusings' Valentine's prompt challenge, so I did. I'm not entirely sure I love all of this, or rather I know there's some of it I don't like, and I think some characters are a little out of character - but there are also scenes I quite liked, so I'm posting it. Besides, I can't always keep starting new multichapter plot monsters. Sometimes a little ficlet is just the thing.  
> The title is from Maggie Rogers' "Give a little".

It starts, harmlessly enough, with a smile across the room - a short one, friendly rather than sleazy despite the wink that goes with it, and Rosaline's insides give a little jolt. Her little sister dragged her to the "Palace", the hottest nightlife spot in town, with explicit instructions to find someone for a little rebound fling – maybe he could be...?

But by the time he makes his way over a little later to talk to her, she's managed to thoroughly talk herself out of that particular idea. She's not one for rebound flings – and his cheesy pick-up line is just the excuse she needs to brush him off.

 _Coward_ , an angry little voice hisses in her head, but she ignores it and remains stone-faced.

The guy only shrugs.

"Can't blame a guy for asking, right?" His voice is light and unfazed, his smile as easy as it was before - if he's annoyed at being rejected, he hides it well. "Enjoy your night."

Another nod, then he's gone again before she's had time to figure out if his parting words were meant sarcastically or sincerely.

And that's the last of him, she thinks – until, two hours later, the night takes a sudden and almost literal steep turn downwards.

Livia, in an attempt to cheer them both up after a rough week, has managed to nearly incapacitate herself with Tequila shots, and it quickly becomes clear that this night isn't going anywher,e and definitely not into the arms of some handsome stranger. With a sigh, Rosaline slings her lightweight sister's arm over her shoulder to drag her home despite her slurred protest.

Unfortunately, this task is not made any easier by the fact that the not-so-aptly named "Palace" is a dive-bar in the sub-basement of an abandoned building, which means Rosaline still has to drag her sister up two sets of stairs. And Livia might be tiny, but she's also nearly boneless and not helping at all, and by the time they've made it halfway up the stairs, Rosaline is completely out of breath and sweating profusely.

And just when she thinks they've made it, Livia rears back to look at her.

"We can't leave, Rosie - we haven't found you a man yet!"

Rosaline wants to reply that there's absolutely no need to "find her a man", thank you, but she doesn't get a chance to. The sudden movement has upset Livia's already precarious balance, and after snapping upright, the momentum keeps carrying on, pitching her backwards. Since Rosaline didn't expect it, she isn't braced against the movement and has no way to counter it - and with terrifying clarity, Rosaline knows what's going to happen next: they're both going to topple over and fall backwards down the stairs, now a considerable height of a fall. Images flash through her head, of her sister passed out or bleeding, of spending the rest of the night in the emergency room...

And just before they can tip past the point of no return, someone dashes past them and drags Livia back upright again just before they tip over. With the dead weight off her shoulder, Rosaline manages to haul herself upwards until she feels firmly balanced again.

"You alright?", their rescuer asks, and Rosaline takes a moment to check how Livia's doing before she replies.

"Yes, thank you. That was a close one, I don't..." she doesn't want to imagine what would have happened if he hadn't saved them, she wants to add, but when her eyes fall on their savior, the words crumble out of her mind: it's the same guy she rejected earlier, the one with the cute smile and the terrible pick-up line. She doesn't know if she should feel guilty about being so short with him earlier, or creeped out that he apparently followed her out here.

But he doesn't give her any time to decide.

"Come on, I'll call you a cab so you can get her home safely."

"We don't need a cab - I live just around the corner."

"Really? That's convenient." He looks at them for a moment, measuringly. "Are there any stairs on the way?"

She realizes what he's getting at immediately and nods. There are indeed stairs, as she's living on the third floor - and she has no idea how to safely get Livia up there.

"Third floor."

"Then I'm coming with you." he seems all business, not like this is a ruse, but Rosaline still hesitates - and to his credit, he notices. "I mean, if that's okay. If you've got someone else you could call for help, I'll just wait with you until they're here."

But there's no one else, she knows - Juliet is sick in bed, Isabella is off on some tropical island vacationing with her girlfriend, and there would have to be a much bigger emergency for her to even consider calling her uncle about this.

The stranger with the bad pick-up lines will have to do.

"I you're serious about helping me get her home, I could use the help."

He nods, earnestly.

"Of course. I can't leave you stranded here - and I definitely won't risk letting you fall down three flights of stairs." He picks up Livia's arm and draws it over his shoulder. "Let's go."

They make it home in awkward silence but much less time than it would have taken her all on her own, ot to mention blessedly accident-free, and soon Livia is propped up on one side of Rosaline's bed, her shoes and jacket off and a glass of water in her hand that Rosaline got her from the kitchen.

"Now, you better drink that entire glass, okay? Your hangover will probably be brutal anyway, but it might still help."

She sets out to get a bucket from the closet in the hallway, deciding it's safe to leave Livia with their helpful acquaintance for the moment. He got them here without trying to hit on her again or otherwise take advantage of the situation, which in Rosaline's book means he's both trustworthy and not a selfish asshole. It seems like he genuinely just wants to help.

When she returns with the bucket she finds the glass of water empty and Livia looking a little more lucid, if still far from sober, head lolling back against the headboard. Their guardian angel is in the process of cracking a window, which is probably a good idea if she doesn't want her entire bedroom to smell of Tequila in the morning.

But to Rosaline surprise, her sister isn't dozing off yet, instead sitting up when Rosaline sets down the bucket to whisper:

"Rosie, there's a man in your apartment. And he's cute." 

Livia's voice carries clearly, not nearly as quiet as she assumed it was, and it's clear from the twitch of the guy's lips that he heard it too.

Unfazed, Livia turns her head to address him.

"What's your name?"

"Benvolio," her helper replies, which Livia acknowledges with a slow nod.

"Benvolio." Another nod, as if this was something the had to mull over.

"But my friends call me Ben", he adds, perhaps not confident that Livia will do very well with his full name in her current state, which Livia acknowledges with another nod.

"Have you met my sister, Ben? She's the best."

"Yeah, I got that impression too," Benvolio replies, voice completely serious despite the lingering amused curve to his lips.

"She's single," Livia then announces, again in that stage whisper she apparently believes to be subtle, and Rosaline cringes in embarrassment. "Which is a shame because..." Livia hiccups, and Benvolio helps by finishing the sentence for her.

"She's the best?"

Livia beams. "Exactly!"

Her head swivels back towards Rosaline, a little unsteadily. "He gets it Rosie. You should keep him around."

"Alright then," Rosaline concurs, though she has no intention to follow through on her words. It's not like Livia will remember any of this tomorrow. "Now, try to get some sleep. And remember, the bucket is right here if you get sick."

Livia nods again and leans back, which Rosaline takes as her cue to leave, gesturing for her helper to come along.

But just when they've almost made it to the door, Livia rallies once more.

"Ben? Don't let her chase you off."

"Sleep!" Rosaline commands, reaching out to turn off the light - but not without catching a glimpse of Benvolio, who's looking at her with a pensive expression.

"I'll try."

Rosaline flicks the switch and the light turns off, cutting off her view of that strange expression, that little almost-smile - but not the memory of it, unfortunately.

And when she looks at him after closing the door, it's still there.

Which means she can continue to be mortified while trying to act like nothing happened - or she can acknowledge it to make sure he knows she's not embarrassed in the least.

"What, no more cheesy pick-up lines? My sister just gave you the perfect opening for one."

He laughs, a warm sound that seems to brighten up her apartment's hallway, and shakes his head.

"I got the message the first time. Will you guys be alright?"

Rosaline nods, still struggling to process what's happening - a process that apparently, her mouth is finished with before her brain.

"I might be a little less strict on the quality of the pick-up line now. Might even change the message."

This makes his eyes light up with interest.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

But if she expected him to come up with another line right away, one that would allow him to stay for a coffee or more, he surprises her.

"I'll be sure to try again next time I see you at the Palace then."

And with those words and a cheeky wink, he turns and leaves, just like that - and just when she was starting to warm up to him.

***

Rosaline wasn't planning on actually following through on Benvolio's not-quite-invitation and seeking him out at the Palace - she has her pride, and it does not allow for chasing after strange men.

But what she was and was not planning to do becomes meaningless as soon as Livia has slept off the alcohol and corners her in the kitchen the next morning, looking irritatingly cheerful and rested for someone who should be suffering from the hangover of a lifetime.

"So," she begins, in a sing-song that suggests she expects some juicy gossip, "what happened last night?"

"You don't remember anything?"

"Of course I remember. I meant what happened after I fell asleep - did the cute guy stick around?"

"Benvolio," Rosaline corrects automatically, then feels stupid for even remembering. "And no, he left. "

"What? _Why_? Did I not leave _specific_ instructions for him to stay?"

"Apparently they didn't stick."

Livia shakes her head and takes a long gulp of her coffee.

"What, so he just left, without another word?"

And that's the moment Rosaline makes a mistake.

"Well, he did say we might meet at the Palace again."

Livia's face lights up.

"I knew it! You should have seen the way he was looking at you, Rosie!"

A part of her wants to ask how exactly he was looking at her, in Livia's opinion, but she holds back that train of thought.

"You couldn't possibly have noticed anything about the way he was looking at me - you were probably seeing two of both of us."

"I saw what I saw," Livia insists, chin rising obstinately and then reaches for her phone to start typing a message. "I'm telling Juliet to come along to the Palace next Friday, so I won't be left alone when you take off with your man."

"He's not _my man_ ," Rosaline protests, though she doesn't think the words really make it through.

"Well, not yet. But we'll see about that."

Rosaline doesn't reply with more than a vague "right", - her sister is as stubborn as anyone, and now that she's got this into her head, there's no use trying to talk her out of it.

And indeed, the very next weekend, Rosaline is back at the Palace, this time accompanied by her sister and their cousin Juliet. They've been speculating all the way here if Rosaline's new acquaintance will be here tonight, and start excitedly craning their necks to look around for him the moment they're through the doors.

But the place is packed and it's kind of hard to pick out anyone, and they decide to head to the bar for some drinks first before finding a place with a good view.

It's silly anyway, being so fixated on one guy, and it puts Rosaline on edge to find how much she's looking forward to seeing him again. She's been trying not to think about him, telling herself not to get too invested too early - he may have been nice the other night, but he could still turn out to be an asshole, or boring, or not as interested as she thought the other night when she was tired and a little drunk. But despite the risk, she found her thoughts drifting to him all week, turning over every word he said in her head and, again and again, replaying that smile that felt like she's the only one who ever got to see her, even though she knows she probably isn't.

She was probably just bored, Rosaline tells herself - its not like her love life's been particularly interesting lately - and turns her attention to the bar and her companions. In the end, it shouldn't matter if he's here or not - they came here to have fun, and that's what they'll do.

They stick to that plan, and save for the occasional reminder of their hidden agenda when Livia or Juliet asks her if she's seen him yet, Rosaline manages not to think about Benvolio too much - until suddenly, he's standing right before her, seemingly appearing from nothing, and smiling that very same smile she's had such trouble forgetting this past week.

"Hey!", he exclaims, voice bright and face even brighter, and there's an answering flutter inside her that should worry her. "You came!"

"I did," she replies, not very smoothly, and hopes he'll turn out to be better at small talk than she is.

"How's your sister? She must have had quite the hangover."

Her sister's health is not what she expected him to bring up, but the fact that he does is rather sweet.

"It wasn't as bad as she deserved, to be honest."

He laughs. "That's harsh. She wasn't that bad."

"She nearly toppled us down the stairs!”

"Luckily, a dashing young man was around to save us," the very person they've been talking about cuts in. "Hi Ben. Rosaline said you might be here."

"Been hoping to run into me, have you?", Benvolio asks her with a much-too-smug smile, and Rosaline lifts her head haughtily.

"You asked me to come by, if I recall correctly," she corrects, and Benvolio laughs again. It's a thing he does a lot, Rosaline thinks, and she likes it.

"And I'm glad you did. Now, how about a drink?"

Rosaline is about to say that really, she should be the one paying for his drink after he helped them last week, when her sister butts in again.

"Rosaline would love to get a drink."

Another laugh from Benvolio, while Rosaline tries not to let it show just how much she'd love to wring Livia's neck right now.

"How about I get all of us something to drink - although just a water for you, I think." That last one is addressed to Livia and followed by a wink at Rosaline, and the look on Livia's face more than makes up for her interference.

Benvolio somehow manages to get them drinks in record time, even going back to get one for Juliet when she joins them a little later.

They drink and talk and tease each other and Rosaline is having fun – until suddenly, things go downhill.

It starts with the arrival of two strangers at their table, whom Benvolio introduces as his cousin and his friend. They're both perfectly nice, but there's a shift in the dynamic after their arrival. And then, when Rosaline returns from getting the next round of drinks, Benvolio suddenly seems more withdrawn, more aloof. She doesn't really notice it at first, already used to the easy back and forth between them, but then his replies get shorter, he turns away from her more often or leaves the table to say hello to this person or that. But Rosaline still thinks she's imagining it when a blonde woman comes up to their table, heading straight for Benvolio.

She expects there to be the same scene as with the other acquaintances coming up to them before, just a bit of small-talk before they move on. But the woman sticks around, keeps talking and laughing with Benvolio in a way that seems increasingly familiar – and then, when the song changes, she actually takes his hand and drags him off to the dance floor, and Rosaline remains behind to wonder how on earth she could have so blatanly misinterpreted the situation.

Because the thing is: She knows they were just talking, and Livia and Juliet were there too, but she still thought there was something different in the way he talked to her, the way he smiled at _her_ in particular. Something that might make him want to stick around, at least for tonight.

But clearly, she was not enough to hold his attention for that long.

And now she's standing at a table with company that has suddenly lost all its appeal, clutching her glass and trying not to let anyone see how utterly humiliated she feels. Because the thing is: She might have claimed that she didn't come here for him – but secretly, she did. She's here because of his kind help and his warm smile and the way his laughter sounded just right in her apartment, and she feels so _stupid_ now for letting those things distract her from realising that he's as much of a scumbag as the next guy.

She stays to make conversation just long enough not to look too suspicious, careful not to look after Benvolio and the mystery woman where they blended into the crowd on the dance floor. As soon as her drink is empty and she's sure Juliet and Livia are well entertained with their new acquaintances, she mumbles some apology and takes off.

By the door, she turns around once more, unable to stop herself, but Benvolio and his lady friend are nowhere to be seen.

"Typical," Rosaline mutters to herself, lips curling into a disparaging sneer. Then she turns and strides out.

And so, her acquaintance with Benvolio Montague ends before it ever has a chance to turn into anything more, and Rosaline has no intention to be sad about it. She wants an honest, straightforward man or none at all. And she definitely won't return to the Palace to be further humiliated.

***

She sticks to that plan for several weeks, until she can tell herself that she's pretty much forgotten about him.

But when another week starts with putting in overtime at work, reaches a new low when she locks herself out of the apartment and ends with running into her ex on the street, she thinks she might be excused for taking drastic measures to forget about her troubles.

She didn't _plan_ on ending at the Palace, but when she texts Livia "I need a drink", Livia tells her they're planning to go there, and Rosaline figures it's as good a place as any to get shitfaced. And sure, the thought of running into Benvolio and making him think she's somehow stalking him is mortifying for a moment - but she's not going to stop attending her regular watering hole just because some random dude she thought might become something more is hanging out there.

So she heads to the Palace and orders some shots, mentally preparing to let her sister drag her onto the dance floor when she gets here. But instead, the person popping up at her side is the very man she's been claiming not to have thought of at all: Benvolio.

He shows up some time between her second and third Tequila (if she's supposed to be fun later, she'll need all the help she can get), which means she's buzzed enough not to care - well, not much. She's still not going to fall for his charm a second time, buzzed or not - not when she knows what he's really like.

So when he sidles up next to her at the bar, Rosaline keeps staring stubbornly ahead until he's actually nudging her shoulder and she can't keep pretending she didn't see him.

"Oh hey," she says breezily. "I didn't see you there... Ben, was it?"

Neither her claim that she didn't see him nor her fake confusion over his name are very convincing, but he doesn't point it out.

"I was thinking I might take that second shot at a good pick-up line now."

"Are you sure? I don't think your girlfriend would like that very much."

"I don't have a girlfriend."

"That's not what it looked like the last time I saw you."

"That was a month ago. And that wasn't my girlfriend."

"You sure?" She might be starting to sound a little crazy now, Rosaline thinks, but she's drunk enough to be easily angered, and sick of being lied to by men.

"Yes, I'm sure." There's a slight edge to his voice. "I don't make it a habit to hit on other women when I'm in a relationship. And I am trying to hit on you - just for the record."

By the time he makes this announcement, his voice is light again, his face lit by a teasing smile, and it gives Rosaline an idea.

Up until this moment, Rosaline was determined to let their conversation end quickly and with no absolution for him - but now, she wonders if he might not be useful after all. She did come here to forget about her worries, and he seems eager to please. Why not take advantage of that, now that shes no longer in danger of wanting more after he's already disappointed her once?

She may not entirely trust him again just yet - but then, he _is_ still cute, and a girl's got to eat, right?

So, Rosaline decides, she's going to have her cake and eat it too; have a little more of that stupid smile she can't get out of her head without putting herself at risk of being hurt again - by taking him home tonight and kicking him out tomorrow.

But things don't work out quite that way.

She tries to let things play out that way. She sets down her drink, looks him straight in the eye, and says:

"Okay. But let's skip the pick-up line this time, alright?

His face lights up but she doesn't let him get in a reply before she slips off her bar stool and pulls him onto the dance floor.

It doesn't take long for them to move closer together, for their slightly awkward moves to sync up into a shared rhythm, for her hands to wind around his neck and his to find her hips. Benvolio follows her lead without hesitation and with an almost awed expression on his face, and Rosaline feels more than a little cocky about this result - it's been a while since she's done this, and it's nice to see that she can still pull it off.

And with her confidence bolstered by this find, Rosaline decides to be even braver: She leans in ever closer, determinedly holding his gaze until she has to lean in so he can hear her.

"I said skip the pick-up line – I didn't mean you can't make a move at all."

His eyes flash for a moment and then go dark, and Rosaline suppresses a shiver. So far, she had mentally filed him under "cute but harmless". Now, she isn't so sure if there isn't more under that bright smile after all.

"Make a move, hm?", he counters her question, leaning closer so she hears it over the music. "I'll see what I can come up with."

And what he comes up with, it turns out, is nuzzling the side of her neck and letting his lips travel slowly along her skin in the lightest of touches, so barely-there it leaves her wanting more within seconds - and then, when she's impatiently pushing closer, about to tell him to get a move on, he delivers _more_ and her knees almost buckle right there on the dancefloor.

She's definitely taking him home tonight, Rosaline decides, and then he kisses her and she doesn't make any more plans for some time.

 _This isn't like her at all,_ she eventually thinks, slogging through the haze in her mind – and then, violently: But maybe it should be.

After all, she's always played it safe before, always taken things slow, always gone for the “good” guys, the ones you meet at alumni mixers over mimosas and polite chitchat, not at bars in the middle of the night; and definitely not dangerously charming men that might get stolen away by other women at any moment. She's always gone for the safe, sensible choice – and so far, she doesn't have much more to show for it than a thoroughly broken heart.

Maybe it's time to take a break from making sensible choices.

"Wanna get out of here?", she suggests, heart racing at her own brazenness.

She doesn't really expect him to say no, to be honest – he's the one who started this in the first place, sort of. But to her surprise, he hesitates, holding her back by her hand when she tries to pull him to the exit to look at her searchingly.

"How many drinks have you had?"

"Not too many."

"Any friends you should inform so they don't worry?"

Considering neither her sister nor her cousin have made it here yet, Rosaline can answer that question with a decided no, and Benvolio finally relents and let her pull him outside and down the street in the direction of her apartment.

After a few steps, once the music from the club has faded away, she wonders if she's supposed to make conversation now. But Benvolio is already one step ahead of her.

"You know, I think I owe you an apology for the way I acted the last time we met here."

Rosaline doesn't reply yet, deciding instead to wait and see where this is going.

"I was trying to play it cool. That's why I froze you out and went to dance with Stella. I just... I didn't want you to think I was desperate for your attention." He sighs. "So I guess instead I acted like an asshole and chased you off."

Rosaline tried to tell herself she doesn't care from the moment he started his explanation - if she doesn't care about him, after all, she shouldn't care why he did what he did or how he feels about it. But by the time he's finished, she can't help but feel like maybe she should care after all.

Maybe he isn't just a guy she'll take home for a night and then send packing - maybe her sister was right and she should try and keep him around for a little longer.

And maybe, the first step in that direction should be to repay his honesty with the same level of truth.

"I was trying to play it cool too."

"Really?"

She nods. "Really. Tonight, at least. I mean, pretending I forgot your name? Please. I can remember a name, especially when the person left such an impression."

"I left an impression? Was it my brilliant pick-up line?"

Rosaline has to laugh - but her reply, when it comes, is earnest and free of teasing. He has earned that much.

"It was how quickly you were willing to help. It made me think that you might be a good guy."

"I try, at least. And I promise, I won't be an idiot and try to play it cool again. Honestly, I mostly did that because my friend Mercutio told me I was coming on too strong and I should tone it down a little. Oh, and my cousin thought I should "make you see that I have _other options_ ” as well.“

“Well, they are both idiots.”

“And I'm an idiot for listening to them - I get that now.”

“And for the record, I liked you better before you decided to _tone it down_.”

“But you liked me.”

“Yes.”

“So if I don't act like an idiot again...”

He leans closer, and the flutter takes off once more.

Not to be outdone, Rosaline meets him halfway, lips brushing across his for the start of a kiss that's different than the way they kissed before – a kiss that doesn't have a best-by date yet.

“Then I might just keep you around.”

 


End file.
